


tired soldiers

by Nagiru



Category: Persona 5
Genre: AKA, Gen, Mentions of past abuse, Shiho's backstory guys you know what it is, Suicide Attempt, The world ends with you au, With the addition that she goes to the Underground to play for her life, the TWEWY AU that actually was asked for (in a prompt)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 08:38:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13477746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagiru/pseuds/Nagiru
Summary: When Shiho thought she had died, she found herself in a sea of people, lost and unseen, playing a game she didn't know the rules.It's fight or die. She's got seven days to win her life back.





	1. 01

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Persona Kink Meme](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=58849#cmt58849).  
> It's complete, and it's a six parts story. The name is subject to change, because it sucks and I know, but I didn't know what to name it and I had "Meet me on the Battlefield" (SVRCINA) playing in my mind, so it stuck to this.
> 
> Heed the warnings and remember Shiho's story. If you have any problem with any of that, please feel free to leave the story now. The suicide attempt occurs on the first part, but I do make mentions of it on other chapters as well.

**01.**

Blood rushes in her veins, heart pumping in her ears. _( **This is it. You’re doing fine**_ **,** the voice whispers full of dark, sweet promises. She isn’t convinced. _)_ She knows she’s trembling, and she can barely hear the voices getting louder and louder inside the buildings of the school.

_This is it._

Her voice isn’t heard by anyone, but she’s speaking. She’s saying everything she wants to say, because she knows, _this is it_. This is the end. _( **This will feel good**_ **,** the voice promises, laughing at her fear _)_. She speaks _because_ no one is here to hear her out. She speaks because fear has always silenced her.

She speaks because the ground is so far away and blue eyes are nowhere to be seen.

_(Blue as the sky, **tainted, false, hypocrite** , sweet, pretty, everything. **Thief.** )_

She closes her eyes. _( **Step forward.** )_

She can’t see the ground rushing up, but she can feel the wind whipping around her hair, hear it rushing over her ears. It sounds ominous. It sounds like death.

The feeling is _( **good. Amazing. Freedom** )_ of fear, of a rush she will never be able to outrun. It feels like fire licking at her nerves, ice freezing her brain. It feels like the end.

_(Look, they say. Look, they point. Shouldn’t they be talking to her? **— Of course not. Who would care about her?** Who, indeed? **Dark eyes.** Fear. **Stained. Broken.** She’s beyond help. **There’s only one way out.** )_

The voices are louder, closer. She will feel it at any moment now. _( **Paradise** )_ Death _( **Haven** )_.

Except — there is nothing. Nothing but pain, pain, _pain_. Pain that surges through her, like fire consuming her whole body. She’s nothing but frayed nerves, exposed for everyone to see. She’s tears and hurt and broken things, and there are voices speaking loudly about her, and she’s _not dead_.

She is _not dead_.

She doesn’t know if she’s crying. She doesn’t know if she’s bleeding, if she’s dying, after all. She only knows bones of glass, fire instead of blood, a brain that feels like water. She knows pain, fear, _dark eyes staring down at her_ , and the strangest feeling of _hope._

A memory of blue eyes, of a voice calling her name.

_( **No. Hypocrite. Useless. Traitor.** )_

A voice calling her name.

She struggles, her bones and eyelids feeling like lead, she _(wants to die)_ can’t move, can’t see, can’t…

_(Ann.)_

Die. She can’t die.

She’s not dead. She’s not alive. She won’t give up. This voice — she knows this voice. Knows this warmth.

_Ann_.

It feels like shards of glass are cutting into her face, like fire is pouring out of her body, like there is a stone laying on her chest — but it also feel like light, pouring down over the dark eyes, the fear, the hopelessness. She feels like _(dying, but not alone)_ trying. She feels like smiling.

She can die. She _can die._ If she doesn’t struggle, she _will_ die. If she gives up here — it would be easy. Just closing her eyes. Letting go. But. _Ann_. Ann will have to _see her die_. She — she can’t do that.

She _won’t_ do that _(to Ann)_. She should _never have done that_. (Ann _saw her jumping. Ann saw her fall. Oh gods. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods. No. No, please, no. What if it had been Ann instead? She would have… Oh, no.)_

It pains her. Her lungs, now that she is really _trying_ to breathe, feels like a balloon with a hole. Unable to hold air. (Useless. _Just like her_ ). It pains her more than she would like to admit, and she is just ready to give up again, to stop everything, to close her eyes and not _look_ , not _be_ — but this is _Ann_ , blue eyes broken and sad, and there are tears running down her pretty face, and this is the most beautiful thing Shiho has ever seen.

_(Need to tell her)_

So many things are stuck in Shiho’s throat, out of a sudden. Fire licks at her tongue, light blind her eyes behind the blue eyes, and silence is just there, finally — but

_(I can’t go yet. I can’t ever go. I can’t leave her)_

she forces herself to speak, because this won’t last. Because now that the opportunity is here, she can’t accept it _( **coward, useless, broken thing!** )_, she needs to speak, even if to do so she will have to gulp down a thousand needles. She needs to speak, because Ann is _crying, broken, terrible, nononono_ , and this is _it_.

This is worth _everything_.

_(Because Ann is **a traitor** everything)_

Because Ann shows will in her eyes, because her teeth are grinding now, and she is nodding, and she is so _relieved_ , and Shiho — Shiho can’t believe it. Can’t believe _Ann_.

Can’t believe Ann won’t… give up.

_(Like she did. Like she can’t do anymore. Like she shouldn’t have done in the first place.)_

Darkness approaches just as she sees Ann shaking with rage, just as Ann’s voice murmurs to her, _“I’ll kill him”_ , promising, more alluring than any dark voice could ever sound — and Shiho goes out with a smile, because, _yes, thank you for forgiving me. (Sorry for letting you down. I won’t ever do this again.)_

Darkness approaches, and with it, Shiho feels the first grasp of death, but the voice is silent now, and in her heart there is pain, guilt, _regret_.

It is enough.


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too used to writing in present tense. Unfortunately, it shows.  
> Again, death warning, those things.
> 
> Also, quick explanation to those who don't know TWEWY: it's all about a game in this "Underground", a version of Shibuya where some people roam around that no one else can see. The players are all dead people who don't actually remember they are dead, and who are playing for the chance to come back to life; however, to enter the game, they have to give up something they hold dear (be it part of their memories, someone special, or even their own body; it varies). Also, in this game, they have a timer/clock in their hands, receive powers, and have to fight against monsters called Noise while fulfilling some tasks given to them by the Admnistrators.

**02.**

_A smile on a pretty face, blue eyes shining with mirth. Laughter that rings like bells and the death of stars. Laughter that allures, captures, imprisons and hunts preys to their death. A laughter that comes like a blessing and leaves behind emptiness. A laughter that makes people come alive, because that is her power, because that is how she **loves**. Encompassing. Wholly. Addictively._

_She comes quietly, seductively, with the false hope of a choice — and she turns into your life, your knowledge, your **everything** , so you will have nothing when she is gone._

 

Shiho has nothing when she awakens in a dull, gray world.

 

Shiho’s price is something beyond her grasp — but then, that is the whole point of the game; giving up your _most loved prize_ so you will give your best during the week in an attempt to have it back. Except that, of course, that is only the whole point in the beginning: when it starts, that is nothing.

When the game starts, there is nothing, because the players _know nothing_. The players do not know this is a game, they do not know they have a _prize_ , and they do not know they paid a _price_.

All they know, when they wake up, is loneliness and fear. All Shiho knows, when she awakes, is blood and her heart beating in her ears, and eyes that roam over her unseeing. All Shiho knows, when she closes her eyes, is fear, regret, the tick of a clock on her hand, and _I need to escape._

In this world, there is no warm presence keeping Shiho safe, because — she doesn’t know it _(Can’t know it, won’t ever know it)_ — she has paid that away. Because her safe place, her loving face, the eyes that always stared just at _her_ are gone, and instead she is left with only the worst of memories and the fear of a world she has no desire to live in.

Shiho’s price, the thing she can’t remember, is _(everything)_ the whole reason she regretted dying. Shiho has paid, but she’s paid unwillingly; Shiho has paid, because they have offered her a second chance at life — but they never tell _what_ she has to give up, and they never give the chance to back away when the price is clear. So, the option is never between the price and life. It’s only between being _willing_ or not. Shiho does not know about the choice between life and _Ann_ , and it shows. It shows in her face, in her soul, in her eyes.

_(Even if the choice is obvious. Anyone will say life.)_

As Shiho looks around, fear thrumming in her body, she thought, _why am I here?_

_(It is not so obvious, really.)_

_(The choice would have been, and will always be, Ann.)_


	3. 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd post earlier. I wasn't home, and then I was watching One Piece. Well. Posting now! Double post, even. Hope you like it!

**03.**

Shiho has half a memory of always being part of the background, of living in the shadows of her own fear, of having few people and liking it just that way.

Now, however, she is _literally_ part of the background — something of a ghost, passing unnoticed by most, having only her partner and the power that brimmed under her skin. It feels lonely, for some reason. Empty. Like she misses something.

She just wants it to _end_.

She wants her normalcy back; she wants her school, she wants her teammates, she wants

_(she wants out, out, never to feel that again)_

the familiar face of her mother. Of her father. Of her friends.

Yet, nothing feels the same. Even when she roams around Tokyo, walking down the street where she lived, she can only observe, never partake. When she stops by her school, she can only long, even if her heart fills with dread.

For the first time ever, Shiho is truly alone.

She _hates_ that feeling. She knows that she isn’t the only one — her partner will sometimes take on a sad, longing smile, and just stare at someone, or just keep glancing at a street, or even scratch at his clock and mutter things she never quite catches, and she’ll know he is like her. Alone. Missing his old life. Just one more lost soul in this sea of people.

But she doesn’t care — she sympathizes, but only to the point where he helps her. She can’t quite _feel_ for him, not when her heart clenches and her eyes sting. Not when her mother walks past her and won’t even say hello.

Not when the only familiar face that seems to acknowledge her is that of the transfer student in her school. The one that has rumors of being a _delinquent_ , a criminal. The one she has exchanged a couple words, once, before, and has never cared for.

The one that seems to carry a damn _cat_ everywhere. A _speaking_ cat.

Shiho supposed she is long past the time where that is surprising.

_(Even if she does feel a warmth setting in her chest when he smiles and mouths to her to **fight**.)_


	4. 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another note on TWEWY: to fight the "Noises" (monsters), each player receives a weapon/power, which is usually related to their life. I thought that, since Shiho spent so much time as a volleyball player, and since it was such an impact in her life (and especially in her death), it would be fitting for her weapon/power to be related to volleyball. So. A wristband she carries around but that becomes a volley ball when she's in danger.

**04.**

Dread fills her lungs, and she runs — runs for her life, because she _needs to_ , because she _can’t die_.

She feels the Noise creeping closer, and turns around forcefully, skidding to a stop around a corner, hands glowing around her only semblance of normalcy.

When the Noise appears from the shadows in front of her, the ball of fire is already flying directly into its face.

_“Die,”_ she hisses angrily — angry at being afraid, angry at almost dying, angry at this whole goddamned situation. “Die, die, die and _leave me alone!_ ”

The volleyball falls to the ground, mocking her as it becomes normal once again, rolling to her feet in slow motion.

When no other Noise comes around, she leans down to catch her ball once again, to turn it back into her wristband as it always is when she doesn’t need it — and then there is a flash of _something_ , of warm eyes and a watery smile, and a hoarse whisper that she has not quite managed to catch.

The wristband snaps to her skin, and she blinks down at it.

“What was that?” she whispers to herself.

From beyond the veil of worlds — or whatever it was, she has never quite caught that explanation, her partner comes panting, face sweaty and smile strained, and she tries to put on a mask for him.

On her mind, however, the voice keeps calling to her, familiar yet unknown, sad yet determined.

_“I’ll kill him.”_

For some reason, Shiho believes it. For some even stranger reason — she enjoys the notion.


	5. 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of sexual abuse in this chapter (and more of character death/suicide). Nothing explicit, but still...

**05.**

_Dark eyes, heavy hands. There is a panting sound, and she doesn’t know if it’s hers or his, if it’s her fear or his desire, but she is so **scared** , so **terrified** , so **disgusted** — she shudders, and tries to back up, and there are voices, laughter, mocking tones she doesn’t understand._

_She doesn’t like this. She doesn’t like this person. She doesn’t want to do these sacrifices. She just wanted to be **happy** , she just wanted…_

_A hand like a hot brand, breath that smells of sulfur and hell, a voice that makes her cry silently, too fearful to be heard. Eyes that follow her everywhere, heavy and promising, a dark future she can’t escape._

_A dark past she can’t forget._

_There are rumors, there are stares, and there is him. Him, with that self-satisfied smirk, that same eyes, those big, hurtful hands, and she just--_

_Can’t unsee, can’t unfeel, can’t **clean herself**._

_She can’t do **anything** , and it feels like failure. It feels like disappointment._

_It feels like death._

 

She gasps and sits up, and she doesn’t know if she was sleeping or induced into the same unconsciousness they are every night, right after the last task, but she wants it _gone_. She wants to be awake and aware, and she wants those — _memories_ — nightmares to go away, because she can’t think of them, not now.

She can’t _(unsee, unfeel, **undie** )_ waste her time with such useless things. She has a bigger objective. She has something to _do_.

She needs to focus, she needs

(to forget, to stop regretting, to _live_ )

to give her best today, just as she did yesterday, or else she might die, taken by a Noise, and then it would be the end.

(End? End of what? What is there to be ended?)

(What is there for _her?_ )

So she grits her teeth, gears up, and get up — and, more importantly, she _doesn’t look back_.

(And thinks of voices she can’t forget, voices she can’t recall, voices that ground her, voices that scare her, voices that give her hope.)

(And maybe this is the End. But maybe, she has something else out there.)


	6. 06

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, dears. To wrap it up... angst, yes, but also hope!

**06.**

It feels too much like falling, too much like dying, too much

(like having a Noise on her heels, a burning hand on her back, a voice that whisper on her mind)

like she’s breaking all over again.

Yet, for the first time in forever, she also feels _alive_.

She tries to breathe, and discover that it comes painfully, robotically, aided. She looks down, and see tubes and needles — she looks to the sides, and see machines beeping, strange after so much time spent in silence, with only her own mind and the few chosen words she deigns to share with her _(was it a partner? Was it a person? Was it…)_ company.

“Shiho…,” a voice whispers brokenly from her side, and she turns around to see blond hair and blue eyes and — so much pain, so much regret, so much hope, so much _warmth_. “You’re _alive,_ ” Ann adds, and there is a smile on her face, even as she cries.

And Shiho just — can’t think, can’t **_(un)_** feel, can’t **_(un)_** see, but she can reach out and take Ann’s hand, slowly and painfully, because.

Because _that’s_ what has been missing. This feeling of otherworldness, of something amazing, of a gift that has been wrapped and presented only to her eyes.

This feeling of perfection and _wholeness_ that Ann always manages to bring her, even when she

_(cries herself sore, too scared to walk away, too useless to fight back)_

feels down and needs to take a time for herself.

_Ann_ has been missing. _Ann_ is the thing she has been searching this whole week, the thing she has been looking for in Tokyo while wandering about. _Ann_ is the one who has warmed her up after nightmares, the promise that has held her together even when she is scared to die _(is scared to live)_.

Ann is the one…

“Akira… Akira said you were… _wandering_ around, and I just. But you were still here, still in your bed, and I…,” Ann gasps out, and Shiho thinks of the new student with his cat, thinks of eyes following her benevolently this time around, of whispers that don’t seem to come only from the human.

“I’m… sorry…” she apologizes weakly, because talking hurts, breathing hurts, but everything is _fine_ now, and she needs to say this anyway. “I tried… to find you…,” she says because this is important. “But I couldn’t… remember…”

Ann shakes her head, and she looks tired, hurt, but so _hopeful_ , so _glad_ , that Shiho shuts up anyway.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ann murmurs, clenching her hand around Shiho’s in a protective manner. “It doesn’t matter, because you are _here_ now, and because I am never letting you be hurt again.”

Shiho tries to smile at her, tries to promise her it’s okay…

And then her mind catches up, visions of dark eyes and the feel of heavy hands, and she has to fight not to flinch back.

Ann notice either way.

“Don’t worry,” she whispers with a dark smile, eyes wet but hard. “He’s gone now. He’s gone, and he will _never_ touch you again.”

And Shiho remembers, now, why she loves that promise so much.

She smiles back, and for the first time in what seems like forever, she feels comfortable enough to close her eyes, to relax, and simply _listen_.

Ann is here. Ann is a living thing, breathing by her side, warm under her hand, and she is _loyal_ , she is _protective_ , and she is _safe_. She has kept her promise, and Shiho…

Shiho feels so damn _glad_.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be releasing the whole story through three days, I just need to finish editing the rest of it.


End file.
